Yes. I love Christmas.

I love that charity- a supposedly private affair-is reserved for this time of the year, and of course in full glare of the cameras. I love that on this day we somehow recover from our collective amnesia that conveniently allow us to overlook the poor among us for the better part of the year. At the sight of these well choreographed acts of Charity, I cannot help but recall the British and German soldiers, who made a Christmas truce in December, 1914; soldiers from opposing armies who sang Carols together, exchanged gifts and even played soccer in no man’s land only to resume war after Christmas. At the surface, it seems like a good Christmas story but underneath lies a very disturbing truth; that life is so casual a thing that killing can be paused momentarily only to be resumed thereafter. I find very little difference between Christmas-do-gooders and the World War I soldiers aforementioned; of these, it is the former I love the most.

I also love the Christmas songs. Not because they are suited to the occasion. No, I love the songs because of those who sing it. Somehow, it is okay for them to sing songs that would make the devil blush throughout the year and then go ahead to belt out a carol to the Son of God during Christmas. Moreover, there is no other time of the year wherein licentiousness is unbound like Christmas. The things people do during Christmas; even the most atheistic of men find them appalling.

I love that the line between need and want is blurred most during Christmas. We buy, buy and buy some more. The consumer is lured by endless promotions, discounts and other marketing gimmicks aimed at emptying the dear one’s shallow pockets. It could not get more ironical than this-that on the day a Man-God was born in a manger, consumerism is at its peak; that December, the month we celebrate the birth of one who foxes had better comfort, we chose to buy a ticket to the Vanity Fair. Ah, I love Christmas.

I love that all the above block out the One whose birth Christians are supposed to be celebrating. Jesus is so much on the periphery of celebrations that we have to be constantly reminded through tired clichés such us ‘remember the reason for the season’ or ‘Let Jesus be born in your heart’. I am yet to find one person who gave his or her life to the Lord on Christmas day. Most meet the Lord on odd days, say 10th July (like yours truly). I love that the truth is exchanged for political correctness. Pray, tell me why should we great ‘Happy Holidays’ or ’Season’s’ Greetings’ instead of the traditional ‘Merry Christmas’. Perhaps every time we celebrate Christmas, God shakes his head saying, “They are at it again.’’

I love the gluttony and indigestion during Christmas. Eat and be merry for tomorrow, you never know where you might me. As the Kenyans put it, Christmas is a time to ‘rudishia mwili shukrani’ (Loosely translated-Give thanks to the body for the hard work during the year).

Yes, I love Christmas.


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